


Celebrations

by Glacier_Llane



Series: Set Me on Fire [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 08:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16036658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glacier_Llane/pseuds/Glacier_Llane
Summary: Shay's not familiar with celebrations, so Haytham guides him.





	Celebrations

Shay took off his gloves as he neared the chapel yard.

He'd never been to a wedding before, but he was pretty sure bloody gloves weren't a good accessory to wear for the occasion.

The Grand Master didn’t exactly explain anything, just told him to have his best outfit and behave. Shay had pulled on his enforcer coat— he supposed it’s fancy enough, and shined his boots the morning. 

Upon arrival, the first thing he saw was Charles's mustache sticking out like a sore thumb. The whole Order was invited to attend, but he had thought Charles would be in Boston and could not make it.

Or perhaps that was just his own hopes. If Charles wasn’t here, it’d only be him and Haytham. Johnson and Hickey were off somewhere and the rest couldn’t be bothered to travel to New York. Well, it’d be him, Haytham, and Gist. Suppose beggars can’t be choosers.

He walked over to Charles hoping he’d know where to find the Grand Master. He was standing near a drink table talking to a bloke in blue.

"You're late, Shay," Charles sneered at him as he approached.

"The boss sent me on a mission," Shay replied, "Where is—"

"I did indeed," The man Charles was talking to spoke up. Shay blinked at him and only then he realised it was Haytham.

_He looked... Different…_

"Could you give us a moment, Charles?"

_…in a good way._

Charles nodded reluctantly and picked up a drink as he walked away.

"I found the courier you were looking for,” Shay pulled a few pieces of parchment from his breast pocket, “Had these on him. Sorry it’s a little bloody.”

Haytham took the papers and read it briefly before giving them back.

“Keep it safe, we’ll inspect them later. I believe there are prying eyes at this party,” Haytham grabbed two glasses of champagne from the table and gave one of them to Shay.

"You look nice," Shay muttered as he took the glass, looking at Haytham's deep blue suit. It had gold etchings and a matching hat that fit his style. Shay felt like he was a little out of place; sweaty and a little bit bloody, with blades on his hips. 

“Not so bad yourself, Shay,” Haytham complimented. 

“Really? I look like a turd in a field of flowers,” He refrained from gulping down his drink in one go.

“Nonsense. You look wonderful,” Haytham insisted, “Shall I take you to greet the wedded couple?”

Shay nodded and followed his lead.

He didn’t know what to do or say exactly, and only smiled and nodded politely as they conversed with the groom and bride. The couple soon excused themselves to have their first dance in the centre of the yard and Shay and Haytham slipped away to the back of the crowd surrounding them.

Shay turned his head just in time to see Gist run at them from behind. 

“You may kiss the groom!” He put his arms around the both of them and laughed jovially.

“Afternoon, Gist,” Haytham greeted, unaffected by his words at all. Shay, however, was red all over his face. 

“Afternoon, Master Kenway,” Gist said with a grin, “You two not going to dance over there?” He joked.

“Sod off, Gist,” Shay elbowed him, embarrassment written all over his face. Gist laughed again and patted his shoulder.

“Well, I’m going to get myself a dance partner. See you love birds around!” And with that he skipped off into the crowd.

Shay straightened himself and went back to watching the dance. The crowd was thinning off as couples started joining the groom and bride on the dance floor.

He tensed as he suddenly felt a hand on the small of his back.

“Sir?” He looked to Haytham with wide eyes and a flushed face.

“Hm?” Haytham looked at him innocently, an empty glass in the hand that wasn’t on his back.

“I… nothing, sir,” Shay turned back to the dance, and Haytham stepped just a little bit closer so his hand could rest on his hip.

In truth, Shay didn’t mind at all. The light touch on his hip made him feel as though… they belong.

And the comment Gist made about dancing earlier… made him actually _picture_ the scene; Haytham grabbing his waist— like he’s doing right now, and guiding their moves in a dance. 

He shook his head. The Grand Master doesn’t dance… does he?

Shay was snapped out of his reverie when the dance ended and the crowd clapped.

“Shall we head back?” Haytham squeezed his hip. Shay was still flustered that his hand was there in the first place. “I’ve arranged for a coach.”

“Aye,” Shay replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

They bid farewell to the groom and bride, piled into a coach and headed to Fort Arsenal. As the carriage started moving, Shay grabbed Haytham’s hat and threw it to the other side of the carriage. 

“Shay—“

Haytham didn’t get to finish his scold as Shay pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. He just as quickly gave in and they clashed their tongues, Shay pulling at Haytham’s hair.

He had to stop Shay from climbing onto his lap and shaking the carriage.

“ _Shay,_ ” Haytham held his face, “What on earth has gotten into you?” He said with laughter. 

“I don’t know,” Shay pecked the inside of Haytham’s wrist, “…I liked your hand on my waist.”

Haytham chuckled and gave a kiss to his forehead.

“Wait till we get back, alright? We don’t want to… alert the coach driver.”

Shay nodded with a smile and sat back down.

He could barely wait to reach Fort Arsenal.


End file.
